


At home

by yaiga



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson loves Daisy, CousyComfort, Cuddling, F/M, Food, angsty, movies - Freeform, post 5x17, sort of..., very short one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaiga/pseuds/yaiga
Summary: Written for the #cousycomfort in Johnson&Coulson/Tumblr.





	At home

He finds her on the couch, her head resting heavily on her right hand as she watches absently the screen, and he can almost hear her thoughts.

He secretly blames himself for putting that weight on her shoulders, but mostly for not being there when she needed him, when Fitz had her tied to a table and cut into her.

He feels a surge of anger when he remembers the images from the video feed, when he remembers her crying helpless and in pain, the hurt of the betrayal on her face, from who she considered one of her closest friends, and in way… it feels like he has betrayed her too.

-Is it taken? - he says, almost startling her out of her reverie, grimacing as he notices the purple bruise on her left cheek once she looks up at him, her eyes blinking languorously at him as she hadn’t heard the question.

He gestures to the spot next to her.

-Uh…no, you can take it-she says, moving to the end of the couch to make place for him at her right.

He is carrying a bowl of popcorn and a thermo with hot chocolate, and he doesn’t miss the way she gazes at it. He knows she isn’t feeding properly, she has been distant lately, and he has just tried to give her space, to be there when she is ready, but she hasn’t looked for him…maybe she thinks he has betrayed her too.

-Are you okay? - he asks pointing at her face, and she shrugs.

-It’s nothing serious…just some scratches- she says dismissive.

-It looks serious to me- he declares, and for the first time since their rescue from Hale and her psychotic daughter they locked eyes, and she sighs, a ghost of a smile on the corner of her mouth.

-I’m fine-

“No, you’re not” he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to argue with her, so he nods.

-What are you watching? - he asks changing the subject, placing the bowl on the table in front of them, and fetching a pair of cups.

-Some…movie I guess, I wasn’t really paying attention- she replies honestly.

-So…are you okay if I change the channel? We’re having French cinema tonight- he proposes mildly excited.

-And here I thought you had come to spend some time with me- she says suddenly, smiling melancholic, leaving him speechless.

-I…-

-I was kidding Coulson- and she is doing it again, deflecting serious topics, painful topics with humor.

- _Daisy_ …-

-French cinema is okay- she says handing him the remote, and looking ahead to the flat screen of the TV.

 

..............

 

If the movie is good he can’t tell. His attention goes distracted as he looks at her with the corner of the eye, but it must be at least funny because she is smiling as she chews popcorn and sips from her cup, finally giving up when he placed the bowl on the couch between them, and for once, those creases of worry and sorrow on her forehead disappear. He must have forgotten because when she turns at him, she finds him staring blatantly at her, and she is blinking again, a handful of popcorn stopping midway to her mouth, as he averts quickly his eyes away.

 

...................

 

This must be the third or fourth movie they’re watching, at least him. He has noticed her head falling every once and then, and a part of him is sad because although they hadn’t talked about the elephant in the room, he doesn’t want the night to end, he wants to enjoy more of her company…he wants to be around…for her.

Her head falling on his shoulder makes him still for a second, he doesn’t remember when she came that close, but it doesn’t matter, soon he is relaxing at her weight on him, at her soft hair touching his shirt, some locks falling over her face and his hand is itching to brush them back, but he doesn’t want to wake her up. He can say she is tired. And it comes to his mind how funny would be if she just starts to snore, or drool on him? But Daisy doesn’t drool or snore, she dozes quietly…she is that perfect.

He manages to turn down the volume without making any harsh moves, and then he is just watching her sleep, or watching her head as her face remains hidden from the position, and he can’t help it: he leans forward and presses a kiss on her hair, lingering, inhaling the fragrant smell of her shampoo that is so her.

-I’m sorry- he whispers, words muffled against her locks, squeezing his eyes shut, as if suppressing a sob himself.

-It wasn’t your fault- her groggy voice almost startles him back, but she doesn’t move at all and for a second he thinks he just imagined it -… but thank you-

He exhales slowly and then starts to move gently next to her, stretching one arm to place it around her shoulders, as the other one is helping her head on his chest. She still isn’t moving, not even tensing around him, her eyes closed as he confirms once he has put the stray locks behind her ear, but she isn’t shying away either.

 

He is holding her now, both arms around her form as her head keeps resting on his chest, and he wonders if she can feel his scar right there, if it makes her feel awkward. But she looks relaxed, her breathing evening, slowly matching the beats of his heart, and all of a sudden she sighs, hiding her face flusher into his shirt, and for a moment he hopes she feels at least a bit of what he feels when he is around her. That she feels…at home.


End file.
